


The Depressive Collective

by StarryEyedWitch333



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Anthology, Copycat Killer, F/F, Gay Lovers, Hospital, M/M, Other, Serial Killers, Short Stories, Trauma, original stories - Freeform, tw anxiety, tw depression, tw eating disorder, tw ptsd, tw suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23997970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryEyedWitch333/pseuds/StarryEyedWitch333
Summary: A series of original short stories and poems.
Relationships: Christopher Trenton (OC)/Vincent Blackwood (OC), Delilah (OC)/Carmen (OC), Lysacob, Lysander Alindovak (OC)/Jacob Bloomer (OC), Male Original character/male original character, Original Character/Original Character





	1. Caught Red Handed

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping to write more for this since most of these are kind of old. If you have any requests, feel free to comment :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dahlia has a daily routine. Things always go the same. Or at least they did until today.
> 
> Trigger warning: Eating Disorder, Implied Depression

Things were okay.

It had become a habit at this point. In the morning, Dahlia would wake up before her roommates. She’d drink her tea and watch TV, knowing that doing makeup or brushing her teeth would be silly. Why do something once when you’d need to do it again, not even an hour later? When the others woke up, they would have breakfast together. Luna was the cook of the trio, and so they just ate whatever she made. Although, for Dahlia, ‘eat’ might be a strong term. Nobody had noticed yet, or if they did, they didn’t say anything. Ruby sometimes cast wary glances in her direction, but other than that, nothing was said as Dahlia picked at her food more than actually ate it.

Then, when everyone had left for the day, it was a trip to the bathroom. A lot of things had happened there, most of them caused by her. Boyfriends, girlfriends, haircuts, hair dye… Good things and bad things. But there was a routine to the mornings that let her relax. Unwind and forget for a few moments. Let everything out.

Her classes were mostly in the afternoon and night, so by the time her roommates came home, she was usually on her way out. A good excuse for dinner: Luna was sensitive about her cooking most of the time, but to avoid dinner was almost a mortal offense. No matter how she tried to avoid it, it was more often than not that dinner was a thing that happened. A good reason for the night classes, then. Other days had work as an excuse.

So things were okay. They weren’t perfect, but the relief that came when she saw food flush away was something that just couldn’t be beat. The flash on the scale as the pounds were shed gave her a feeling of power. Control, even.

And then, things weren’t okay.

Things had started off as per the routine. Wake up, drink tea, watch TV underneath a bunch of blankets. The news today. The world was shit, but it’s good to keep up to date. The world slowly woke up around her, and after an hour, Luna and Ruby made their entrance. Luna was affectionate and unafraid to show it: Hugs and ‘I love you’s all around. Ruby, less so. Simple waves and greetings were enough for her.

Breakfast came and went with nothing out of the ordinary. Luna cooked, Ruby and Dahlia ate. Normal. Routine.

The duo soon left to go to their classes, leaving Dahlia alone. Perfect timing too: Her body knows what she’s about to do and she can already feel the bile coming up.

What she expects is to rush into the bathroom and puke her insides out with little affair. Not glamorous, but few things in life are. What she does not expect is, midway through her routine, for the front door to open.

“Dahlia? It’s Luna! I forgot something, so I’m just gonna grab it real quick and skedaddle,” she said. Dahlia knows it would be weird to not respond, but just as she’s about to do so, a heave wracks her body and she turns her head back towards the toilet.

Too loud. She can hear Luna hesitate before the sound of footsteps running towards the bathroom door and swinging it open. A cry of shock escapes the both of them, although for Dahlia, it’s more like a groan before she’s throwing up again. She barely has time to react before Luna is holding her hair back with one hand and calling someone with the other.

“Ruby? Ruby! Come back to the apartment, it’s an emergency!” Silence. “Dahlia’s really sick!” Whatever Ruby says seems to put her somewhat at ease, but she’s still focused on Dahlia. “Okay, I’ll do that. Love you!” With that, Luna hung up.

Dahlia wretches a few more times, tears streaming down her face as Luna rubs circles on her back and holds her hair out of her face. Sweet nothings escape her lips. She’s attempting to soothe, and luckily for Dahlia, the tears could look like they’re from gagging so much. On the other hand, Luna has always been pretty good reading people. Dahlia doesn’t turn back until she’s fully done, slumping against the bathtub next to the toilet.

That’s when Ruby enters the apartment and makes a beeline towards the duo. “Sorry I’m late. Got held up.” That’s the excuse she uses for a lot of things, but this time seems genuine and so neither complain. Ruby surveys the scene, looking in concern towards the others. Something she never does. “Jesus Christ, Dahlia,” she murmurs as she crouches down next to the duo. “Okay. Luna? Can you make some soup? Might help her feel better.”

Luna looks hesitant to leave her friend’s side, but a stern look from Ruby has her nodding and with one last squeeze of her shoulder, Luna stands and leaves the scene. They’re alone.

Dahlia’s about to speak when Ruby interrupts. “Listen. I… 

I know something’s up. You don’t have to tell me what it is, but you’re not eating, and you’re avoiding us. Honestly, I should have spoken up sooner, but… Well, it’s worrying me.” That made Dahlia look at Ruby in shock. Ruby _never_ talked about herself. She closed herself off from others and held most stuff inside. 

“Ruby…”

“No. Save it. I don’t know how well you’re feeling right now, but I want to see you eat something today. Doesn’t have to be much, but Luna’s probably already started on her soup and it’s to die for. I just want to see you eat something.”

Dahlia is about to protest this. Say she’s fine, and that there’s nothing to worry about. But Ruby speaks before she can get anything out. “Luna and I are skipping class today. Hopefully, she’s already written the email. If not, I will.”

Dahlia hesitates for a moment. She’s tempted to argue, but honestly, the vomiting took it out of her. There’s not really much she can say at this point, either way. Her routine has been completely ruined today. And so she nods, Ruby sighing as she stands from her crouch and offers a hand to Dahlia, which she hesitantly accepts. 

Her routine is wrecked after that. No lounging around and looking at food without eating it, or eating and then throwing up. It’s simply laying on the couch after eating a quarter of the bowl of soup supplied to her. Luna was always generous with her servings. Her head is in Luna’s lap and her feet in Ruby’s. Luna does her hair gently, humming a song to herself and Ruby doesn’t really do anything. Just talks during the commercials of whatever show they’re watching. Some crime drama that’s completely inaccurate by Ruby’s standards.

It’s a strange version of her routine, and not the one she was expecting, but… It’s a nice one she supposes.


	2. it's heartbreaking to lose a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob attempts to accept the fact he's been lied to by his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [TW: PTSD, Implied Abuse, Past Homophobia, Panic Attacks]
> 
> NOTE: Lysander Alindovak belongs to my friend MurderMostFowl on Discord! All credit goes to them :)

“I love you.”

Those were the words that appeared on Jacob’s screen from his friend. His best friend. The one he had trusted with so much, and yet.

And yet Lysander had lied to him.  Lysander had used him.  Lysander had been manipulating him the whole time.

And Jacob had let himself fall for it like the idiot he was. He had been clean of this. He had been pure. All of those days spent cleansing himself and praying and everything he could to rid himself of these thoughts! And Lysander had ruined him. He had destroyed everything he had worked on in the course of a little over three months. So w hy _him_? What had he done to deserve this? What atrocities had he commit to make him go through these feelings _again_?!

Why?! Why him?!

And then a knock. Jacob barely managed to keep himself together long enough to hear who it was, but his stomach dropped in realization. 

“Hey Jacob? Are you in there? Listen, I’m sorry. I knew that sh- ... Stuff makes you uncomfortable but I did it anyways. That wasn’t right. Just... Open the door so I know you're alright at least...”  Lysander’s voice made its way through the door, muffled but loud enough to ring in his mind. He couldn’t deal with this. He couldn’t. But Lysander deserved an explanation, or at least a reason to hate him. Something to make him not come back.

He didn’t want to lose this friendship, but he needed Lysander out of his life.

And thus the door opened, if only slightly. The chain lock prevented it from opening too wide. And there his friend stood, his only eye wide in panic. Jacob had wondered what happened to the other eye, always covered with an eye-patch, but it was too late to care. He had to get this over with.

It was Lysander who spoke first. “Jacob! Jacob, oh God, thank God you’re okay! I was so worried! You logged off so fast and didn’t respond and…” His frantic words slowed, then stopped when he saw Jacob’s long sleeves covered in snot and the redness of his eyes. The tears that were streaming down his face. The horrid mess that was Jacob Bloomer.

“... You..." Jacob croaked out, trying to get words past the invisible claw that choked him. “I…”

“Listen Jacob, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did it anyways and it was wrong and stupid and I-”

Jacob's panicked, breathless voice interrupted him. “Don’t. Don’t. Please don’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“Jacob. Jacob, breathe. Breathe! In, out,” Lysander pleaded to the man who had sunk to his knees at the door, all the while desperately trying to undo the latch to help.

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, make it stop! Please. I can’t… I can’t do this! I can’t!”

His body burned. His mind was smoky . This was too much. He was going to die. The whole world was gone and it was only him. He couldn’t hear anything past the horrid thoughts that played through his mind, an endless drone of ‘wrong’ and ‘unlovable’. 'Unclean.' 'A mistake.' He couldn't escape. He knew he'd never escape, and he didn't know why he ever thought he would.

And then there was a hand on his shoulder.

Jacob stiffened but managed to try and steady himself a bit as Lysander slowly crouched to be next to him, soothing him. Rubbing circles on his back. It took a few minutes

“I’m scared.”

It was Lysander’s turn to hesitate for only a second, before continuing the soft motions. “I know.”

“They’ll hurt me. Us."

Lysander stopped completely, looking to Jacob with concern.

“Who?”

“The counselors… They’ll hurt us again,” Jacob murmured, forcing himself away from the touch and against the wall, sniffling a bit and using his ruined sleeves to wipe the tears away. “You don’t… I don’t want you to be hurt. It’s going to happen again. I can’t… I can’t go through it again.”

“Jacob… Where are you right now?”

The words made Jacob look up at Lysander, blinking a few times in order to clear his vision before his hand pressed against his head. Deep breath. “I’m… Um, I’m at Camp Sunshine?"

That seemingly innocuous name drove a spear through Lysander's throat, but he pressed on in grounding his friend. "Jacob... Jacob, can you tell me where you are?"

The young man looked around a bit more, seeming dazed and confused before he spoke. "My... um... my apartment," he murmured quietly.

“Where?”

“New York.”

“Where in New York?”

“... Albany.”

Lysander let out a sigh of relief reaching out to hug Jacob before Jacob moved out of the way. That made him quirk a brow in concern.

“No… no touching. Not now, please. I can’t.”

Lysander backed off, raising his hands to show he wasn't coming closer. “No touching. Okay. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better right now?”

Jacob sat in silence for a moment, before mumbling something under his breath.

“Hmm?”

“... I’m hungry.”

“Okay. What do you wanna eat?”

A shrug.

“Well, I know you like chicken tenders. Would that be okay?" A nod. "Do you wanna go out and get them or do you want me to order in?”

“Stay. Please.”

“Gotcha. I can work with this. Just give me a-” He stopped when he saw Jacob pulling out his own wallet. “No. Hey Jacob? I’ll take care of it today. Don’t worry. You can pay me back in yee-haw sauce later.”

Jacob laughed at the term, a bit shaky but genuine. “Ranch?”

“I know what I said,” Lysander retorted with a small smile. However, his face fell shortly after. “I… Listen. I want to know what just happened, and we don’t have to talk about it now. But… someday. Okay?”

Jacob sulked a bit, seeming to curl in on himself before shrugging. “It’s… nothing.”

“It’s clearly not. I’m no therapist, but that looked bad.”

“It felt bad.”

“See?” A sigh. “I get like that too sometimes. And it sucks. It really does. And I want you to know you’re not alone, okay? You’ve got me, you’ve got Greg, Petram… Even Jasper! Although you probably shouldn’t trust anything he says. But the point still stands: You’re not alone. And if you don’t want to date then that’s fine, but like… That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being your friend.”

Jacob stayed silent for a few moments before reaching out a trembling hand to hold Lysander’s and turning away. “I want to try.”

Lysander paused, before gently gripping the hand and running his thumb over the back

“So do I.”


	3. Letter to my Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmen writes to her lover from the hospital.
> 
> TW for suicide attempt, hospitals, and depression.

Hey there Delilah!

Heh, get it? Like the song? Yeah, I know it’s not funny and you’ve heard it a million times before but it was worth a try, right? I know what you’re going to ask though! You’re going to be all like “Carmen, are you okay? How’s everything going?”

And I’d say “Yes! I’m doing much better than when you found me, and the hospital is really nice,” because it’s all true! It’s so big, Delilah! The hospital I mean! And everyone is so nice, too! I mean, we all have our own fair share of problems (I think I heard someone puking last night? So sad!) but we all care for each other in our own peculiar way. Like how one of the other patients picked a hair off of my clothes! It was weird and stuff, but it was still nice!

I don’t know how long they’re going to keep me here! They just keep saying, “We have to make sure you’re not a threat to yourself or others before we can release you!” Can you believe it? I’ve never been a threat to others! The nerve! Although, I guess they have a point about me and stuff. Ugh! I miss home and you. You more than home, obviously! (COME VISIT ME!)

Dang, postcards are too small! I’m running out of space, so I’ve gotta cut it off here! I’ll try to reach out ASAP, whenever that is!

Love ya!  
Carmen


	4. Thoughts at Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christopher reminisces on his time with Vincent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for implied abuse, abusive relationships, and mURDER

It had been a rough day.

The process had been difficult, but the cleanup even more so, and Christopher had been expected to do it all by himself! This was nothing new, of course; in this line of work, he was used to scrubbing his entire apartment thrice over. However, the messes were getting bigger. They were getting sloppier.

But he wouldn’t give it up for the world.

He was happy, he told himself as he turned on his side to look at the man in his bed. Beautiful black hair, tanned skin… A God among men. Vincent was all his now. They were together. They were  _ happy _ . This was what he had wanted.

A smile graced his lips as he watched the other,  _ his _ other sleep peacefully. Soft inhales, soft exhales. Christopher had been scared when he first met him. Of course he had been! Who wouldn’t be petrified by a meeting with their idol? Especially so suddenly! One moment, he had been in an internet cafe, and the next he was being confronted by the man who had inspired him so greatly, touched his heart in a way that no one else could! It was frightening and wonderful, a delightful mix. One that made him shiver in delight at the mere thought of it.

The doubts nibbled at his mind as they always did when he thought of the situation he had put himself in: ‘He’s using you. He feels nothing for you. You’re putting yourself in danger by just letting him near you.’ He knew all of these things already though. He’d be naive not to. Of course Vincent was using him. Of course Vincent felt nothing for him. He was already in danger with him. He’d been threatened numerous times into keeping quiet, sometimes even hit for not following exact protocol..

But it was the little things that kept him coming back. Not only was he in even more danger if he left, not only would he be disposed of like a used tissue if he even  _ thought _ of telling anyone of the games they played, but… The way Vincent would gently guide his hand as they made the first incision. The way he smiled and told Christopher he had done well. The way he got that twinkle in his eye whenever they laid eyes on a new victim… He wouldn’t give that up for the world. It made him feel something for once. It made him feel… special. Powerful. Like he could have the entire world in his hand and only he could determine the fate of the people living on it.

His whole life, he’d been looked over. Ignored by those that had sworn to protect him. Mistreated, hurt,  _ abused _ . Now though? He didn’t have to worry about that anymore. Nobody could touch him from where he stood on the pedestal Vincent had raised him to. Nobody could ignore him anymore. He was powerful, smart, courageous.

And he had Vincent to thank for that.


End file.
